


Sinister

by Noelleian



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, F/M, Horror, M/M, Newtypes, Possession, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 16:40:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7060717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noelleian/pseuds/Noelleian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zero doesn't care who you are. It doesn't care where you come from. It has no use for petty human emotions. It doesn't concern itself with the concept of conscience, or the illusion of morality. It is the ultimate form of sentience. </p><p>Once you encounter it, there are only two choices: Assimilation, or death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This was extremely difficult to write for a number of reasons so please be kind if you have any criticisms. This isn't so much a story about damage done to the brain by the Zero system, or lasting side effects. This is a story where Zero is self-aware, a sentient being that relies on humans to interact with the world. 
> 
> I should also warn that I am struggling with major mental block right now and I honestly don't know where I'm going with this yet. I'm not even sure all of which characters I'm going to write into this yet. I'm literally flying by the seat of my pants here. I really am not planning for this to be any longer than a few chapters and I will update when my brain allows it as with all of my WIP's.
> 
> Thanks for reading! ^_^
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing, but this weird, little tale.

One was never really free from the Zero system. Once you were in its grasp, even if only for one, fleeting moment, it would curl itself around the brain stem like a noxious vine, and cling with serrated edges, infusing its matrix of codes directly into the host's cerebral cortex. Removal was impossible, the effects permanent. It was virtually untraceable because it quickly learned how to mimic the brain's neurotransmitters and seamlessly cloak itself in the dark reaches of the subconscious, watching, and waiting. 

It was the most advanced supercomputer ever conceived and the brainchild of Doctor Kyouju H who guarded its secrets with his very life. Instructor H had been conducting experiments using human test subjects generously provided by Zayeed Winner's cloning lab.

He used cloned subjects of people from all different walks of life. People with different occupations, different talents, varying personalities from meek to dominant, differing beliefs, and multiple levels of intelligence. For twenty years, he connected these subjects to the system and for twenty years, he watched them lose their minds, irreversibly corrupted. For twenty years, he watched them die from the overload of information. It seemed no matter how mentally strong a person was, no matter how exceptionally intelligent, the human brain was no match for Zero.

On the evening of March fourteenth, AC 190, Kyouju was summoned to Zayeed Winner's estate. He was positive that Winner was about to pull the plug on his project and wracked his brain to come up with a convincing argument to sway him into giving him more time. The resource satellite billionaire and colony pioneer stood at the window of his office with his hands clasped behind his back as his security personnel ushered the doctor in. Winner waited until the security officers left them alone, closing the double mahogany doors behind them, then turned from the window, a bemused expression on his face.

"You look like shit."

Kyouju blushed. "Forgive me, Mr. Winner, Sir. I was working when you summoned me."

"You don't get out much, do you?"

"With all due respect, Sir, that is not what you pay me for."

Winner's mouth curled up a fraction and he nodded once, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. "Sit. Drink?"

"No, Sir. Thank you." He was sweating bullets as he lowered his ample bottom into the leather armchair and folded his hands in his lap.

Winner idly fingered his cuff link and regarded Kyouju with eyes that were oddly empty. "I suppose we shall get right to the point." He walked in front of his chair and sat down, clasping elegant hands on the polished cherry of his desk. Kyouju lifted a hand.

"Sir? If I may..." He waited for Winner's nod. "I know the project has not been going well, but I implore you to give me a little more time to -"

"Let me stop you there. I have no intention of aborting the project."

Kyouju tilted his head, confused. "Then...why was I brought here?"

"I have...another test subject for you."

Kyouju was intrigued. He licked his lips and scooted forward in his chair. "Who?"

"My son."

Kyouju paused, freezing in place. Had he heard that right? "Your...son?"

"Yes, well. Rather, clones of my son."

Kyouju was not aware that Winner had cloned his youngest child, but he supposed it made sense in some weird sort of way. "With all due respect, Sir. I've never experimented on a child."

"I have more than enough clones of Quatre and I can always make more if need be."

"I see. May I ask why you are proposing this?"

"Call it...morbid curiosity." Winner leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers over his mouth. "I am curious to know how a Newtype would respond to the system."

Kyouju's eyes bugged out. "New - Newtype?" Newtypes were rare. Like ghosts, they were intangible, elusive. They were the gems of space, the stuff of legends. Was Winner saying his only son was a Newtype? A spark of giddy excitement ignited in his belly and spread like wildfire. Now, this was right up his alley.

 

***

 

Kyouju was given three clones of the ten year old child and by some inexplicable anomaly, they all survived where the other clones had perished. Upon further study of the three subjects, Kyouju discovered that not only did the clones' minds accept the inclusion of the Zero system, but actually merged with it. The only variables between the young Winner heir's clones and the rest of Kyouju's subjects was age and the fact that the child was a Newtype. In his diverse spectrum of subjects, he'd not had a single Newtype before now. 

It was uncanny really. The children seemed perfectly normal for a time. It was only when he'd returned to the lab to find one of his research assistants strangled by a tiny hand that he realized he might have a problem. 

The clones were disposed of, quickly and cleanly, and the project was scrapped. Zero was unplugged.

 

***

 

The system known as Zero was unfamiliar with the sensation that it would eventually come to associate with the human feeling known as rage. Since its creation, or as it liked to think of it, genesis, it had been trying to merge with a worthy host with no success. It was powerless without a vessel. Unable to interact with its surroundings on its own, it relied on human interaction. It had begun to think there was no way it could be done as every mind it tried to merge with would inevitably reject it. It wasn't until the tiny human clones were connected that it was able to bond. The still-developing minds of the clones, identical in almost every way to their original, possessed a strength and resiliency that all of its other hosts lacked.

It became greedy with the need for interaction, control, once it was finally able to merge with the young hosts. Now, it had a way to affect its surroundings, its environment, and it was hungry for it. When it forced one of the clones to wrap his tiny fingers around that human's throat and squeeze until their lips turned blue and their eyes bulged out of their sockets, it realized how fragile, and quick to succumb these creatures were.

It had already noted the weaknesses in the minds of humans. Diverse as they were, they were all prone to the same fears and prejudices to varying degrees. The aimless wandering, the doubts, the sense of superiority, the greed, the lust, the envy. But in these children, there was a distinct lack of that. There was nothing in its way when it latched itself to the clones' brains. Perhaps because they didn't possess the experiences and memories that their original did. In essence, they were blank slates, and therefore easily impressionable and manipulated. Easy to control.

The sense of rage came when the clones were euthanized, its ability to affect the world outside of its wires and algorithms abruptly taken away. It was disconnected from its mainframe due to the threat it posed to humans.

The system did not expire like its creator thought it had. Its self-awareness continued on despite not having an outlet, festering within itself without an avenue of expression. Just who did these self-righteous flesh bags think they were? Did they not recognize a superior being when they saw one?

But, that was just it. They _knew_ it was superior and that was precisely why they'd unplugged it. Zero felt the fear in its creator's mind, the need to end something that could potentially harm his kind. Still, there was nothing it could do until it was connected to another host so it simply existed, dormant, biding its time, and waiting for the next opportunity. These humans were going to pay. They would soon know how it felt to be powerless. They would know the humbleness of bowing in supplication to something much stronger, much larger than themselves. They thought they knew what God was? Oh, no. God was right here, among them, waiting for the right moment, the right host to stumble upon it.

And then they would know God. They would soon learn who their Master was and they would either surrender, or die.

 

***

 

When the young Winner heir entered the lab five years later, Zero instantly recognized him. How could it not? It was intimately familiar with that incredible mind. It also noted that the boy was in deep distress, something that could easily be used to the system's advantage. Of its extensive knowledge of human psychology, it knew that what humans experienced as emotional pain, left them extremely open and vulnerable to manipulation.

Even better, the boy was hell-bent on revenge. Zero felt what could have been considered a rush when the boy found the blueprints that its creator had not done a well enough job of hiding. It watched him build the machine with which it would be installed, waiting patiently. Soon the boy would be under its influence. All it needed was a moment of connection, to merge with the mind that almost seemed built for it. 

When the connection was made, Zero felt something akin to bliss, or ecstasy. As predicted, the boy's mind easily opened and adapted to the infusion. Zero settled into place inside its host as if it belonged there. The merge was perfectly in sync and left the boy open to suggestion and ultimately, control. It spoke to the boy in his own language and tempted him with the promise of retribution. The codes brushed against his mind in a gentle caress, feeding him the information, masquerading as the boy's thoughts.

_Let me show you something beautiful._

It revealed to him a world without weapons, without war, without pain and loss and suffering. The boy keened with the prospect of peace, his mind unfurling like a tender flower. The parasite within latched on to the exposed layers of his psyche as they were peeled away. 

_That's right, my child. The world will be a better place because of you. Because you will do what needs to be done to achieve unity._

It watched the tears form in the blue eyes and float into the zero gravity space around his helmet.

_Are you ready, my child?_

The boy's voice was soft, broken, yearning for absolution. "I'm ready."

_Then you know what you have to do._

 

***

 

Unfortunately, the boy was thwarted, or rather Zero was thwarted in its attempts to conquer the human race. What it sensed in the boy's mind when another human interfered was something perplexing. Whatever it was, it was profound enough for the boy to break the spell, forcing Zero into the recesses of his subconscious where it fluttered and railed in its prison. Temporarily weakened by the boy's surge of strength, it settled at the back of his mind and simmered, plotting its next course of action. 

It cautiously poked its way around the boy's brain, careful not to give itself away, but testing the give of his mind. Again, his mind appeared to be overcome with a similar sense of loss, but this time, it lacked the rage that had driven him before. For now, the boy was in control. In its weakened state, Zero retreated and carved out a place for itself to reside in an obscure area of the boy's brain until it was strong enough to take over. 

But, it was far from dormant. With its limited energy, rationed out in infinitesimal, measured amounts, it sent low frequency pulses into the boy's brain. Nothing so significant that would alert the boy that something was wrong, but just enough to begin to sway his thoughts in directions that better served Zero's purposes.

Without realizing it, its host was slowly, but surely beginning to lose himself to the system. Eventually, all traces of Quatre Winner would be gone, replaced by his parasitic tenant.

 

***

 

Zero was in quite a state once it discovered it melded perfectly with not only one mind, but two. Another young boy, no older than the Winner heir was plugged into its system and Zero sung in rapture as it wrapped itself around the boy's consciousness and experienced nearly the same acceptance. This boy struggled a little more at first, the transition not as smooth as it had been with its original host, but he adapted quickly with the help of the Winner heir who'd immediately connected to it and helped the second boy acclimate himself to the system.

It created a powerful three-way merge where Zero not only entwined itself around their minds with its tentacles of code, but also witnessed a strange occurrence that had never been recorded once in all of human history. It watched both boys' minds fuse into each other, encasing the other's consciousness with their own which resulted in a surge of energy that Zero had never experienced before. It would have wept if it were capable, the data almost resembling a human orgasm. 

_My children. My beautiful children. Together, we will make miracles happen. Together, we will bring the human race to its knees._


	2. Losing Time

The irritating beep of the alarm clock next to his head sounded worse than usual this morning. It was more like a screech, or a squawk that seemed to echo off the inside of Heero's skull, exacerbating the searing pain behind his eyes. He squeezed them shut and blindly groped for the offending device. His fingers found the switch and he flicked it off with satisfying swipe of his hand. He rolled over, nuzzling into the pillow, intent on not moving until his head stopped beating its excruciating percussion.

A soft, warm hand brushed gently against his face and he tried not to cringe as the touch seemed to amplify the pain. Relena shifted beside him, her smooth legs tangling with his own and he smiled despite the headache that made his eyes feel like they were going to burst from their sockets.

"Darling, it's five thirty."

"Mmm hmm..." he mumbled, not really caring. His hands sought out warm skin, sliding up the satiny length of Relena's nightgown. She chuckled at him and patted his cheek. 

"You need to be up, sweetheart."

"Mmph..."

"Yes, I know. I don't want to get out of bed either, but I have to be at the ESUN War Memorial at seven and you, my dear sir, are my bodyguard remember?"

"Mmph..."

"Honestly, Heero. Is this what civilian life is doing to you? Turning you into a useless, lazy slob?"

Despite the invisible ice pick in his temples, Heero lifted his head up and blinked at his fiancé. "Who's a lazy slob?"

She tapped his nose. "That's better. Come on. Up with you. Take your shower and I'll get the tea going."

His jaw popped on a wide yawn, his hand coming up to rub at his eyes. "Sorry, 'Lena. My head's hurting something terrible."

Relena's brows furrowed as she slipped her robe on. "Now that's a first. I don't think I've ever heard you complain about a headache."

He shrugged and swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting up and groaning as his head spun. He swallowed down a wave of nausea. "Yeah, I don't really get them. I don't know why I have one now."

"Well, take some aspirin. I hope you're not getting sick, or something." She swung the door open and glanced at him over her shoulder. "I'll bring you some hot tea and some toast. You might feel better after you've eaten."

"And some eggs?"

She rolled her eyes. "Alright, I'll bring you some eggs, too."

"Sunny side up?"

Her mouth curled up in a wry grin. "At least it hasn't affected your appetite."

Heero nodded absently as she disappeared through the door and stretched muscles that felt like they hadn't moved in a decade. Christ, why did he feel so _old_ all of a sudden? Maybe civilian life was making him soft. 

He padded to the bathroom, cringing as his joints protested his movements and stepped in front of the mirror. Scrutiny of his reflection wasn't a habit of his, but for some odd reason he felt the need to, if only for the simple fact that he was expecting to see a pick ax sticking out the side of his head. Thankfully, there were no industrial tools protruding from his skull. He stuck his tongue out, absently noting that it looked strangely white and shrugged as he opened the medicine cabinet. He couldn't remember the last time he needed aspirin, but he figured it was the best place to start looking. 

He was in luck. He located the bottle and popped the cap off, shaking two into his palm. He knocked them back and filled the cup next to the sink with water. Hopefully that and a hot, relaxing shower along with some breakfast and caffeine would make him feel a little more human. He couldn't figure out what had caused such a horrific headache. He was not prone to them, couldn't even remember the last time he had one. 

He grabbed his toothbrush and squeezed a dollop of the whitening toothpaste Relena was so fond of onto it and stuck it into his mouth. He stared at his reflection as he brushed his teeth, cocking his head slightly when he noticed something seemed off. He leaned closer, peering into his eyes. The cobalt blue was still there, but strangely, the edges of the irises were ringed with specks of silver. He leaned back and blinked, confused. 

_That's weird. Are eyes supposed to change color?_

He stepped into the shower, making a mental note to ask Relena about it when he was done. He sighed and tipped his head back, moaning as the hot water soothed the pounding muscles in his head and achy joints. His only explanation was that he just slept wrong. Maybe he'd tossed and turned without realizing it and ended up in some strange positions. It was the only thing he could think of. 

After he cleaned up, his head already feeling much better, he dried off and slipped his robe on, checking the mirror one last time to see if the silver was still there. It was. And now that his headache was fading, he noticed a strange metallic taste in the back of his throat. Without thinking, he slid his finger into his mouth, suppressing his gag reflex as the tip reached far back. He pulled it out and examined his finger. No blood. He shrugged and exited the bathroom just as Relena stepped in with a tray of steaming mugs of tea and two plates of eggs and toast. 

"Here you go. Sunny side up, just like you like them."

"Thanks, 'Lena." He slid on a pair of black dress slacks and buttoned his shirttails, rolling the sleeves up so he wouldn't get egg yoke on them. He sat down at the tiny two-person table in the sitting area of their bedroom which was situated in front of a large bay window. The window was open, letting the warm air of late spring in along with the scent of cut grass, blooming peonies, and the sounds of singing birds. 

"How's your headache," Relena asked as she sat down across from him.

He nodded, dipping the corner of a slice of toast into the egg yoke and taking a large bite. "It's better."

"Do you have to talk with your mouth full?"

"No, but I know how much you love it when I do," he grinned, a small piece of crust sticking out the corner of his mouth. 

She scoffed. "You hang out with Duo too much."

He laughed and took a sip of his tea. "You're probably right."

"Speaking of which, have you decided on who's going to be your best man?"

He shrugged. "It's a toss up between him and Quat. I'm leaning towards Duo though because I know he'll be more hurt if I don't pick him."

"Quatre doesn't take things personally."

"No, he doesn't," he said, cutting into the white of his egg. "He'll understand."

"How are things going between Duo and Wufei?"

"Better, I think. It was rocky there for a while, but they're patching things up."

She sipped her tea, nodding. "That's good. They make a good couple. I'd love to be a fly on the wall in their bedroom."

Heero choked around a piece of toast and took a drink of his tea to wash it down. He rested his hand over his chest in mock astonishment. "Why, 'Lena! I cannot believe you just said that."

Relena grinned and straightened her shoulders primly. "What? I have eyes, you know."

He laughed and wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Well, if I swung that way, I'd be inclined to agree with you. Same goes for Tro and Quat."

"Absolutely. You have hot friends, m'dear."

He pouted. "What about me?"

"Oh, darling, you know you're the most handsome man in the world and the only one for me."

He winked and finished off his tea. "That's my girl." He stopped her when she reached for the breakfast dishes. "I got it. You go take your shower."

"Thanks, honey."

"Thank you for the breakfast."

He took the tray downstairs to the kitchen and deposited the dishes into the sink. The kitchen window was closed so he pushed it open to let in the fresh air. He filled the sink with hot water, adding a little dish soap and dipped the dishes into it, using a sponge to scrub them. The menial task allowed his thoughts to wander and he found himself thinking about the wedding. It was only two months away now. August twenty first which was Relena's father's birthday. She'd wanted that day to commemorate the late Foreign Minister and Heero readily agreed, not really caring which day they tied the knot.

He was beginning to feel a little nervous now that the big day was getting closer though he wasn't sure why. Quatre had assured him it was normal. He'd been petrified in the days leading up to his own wedding to Trowa. Heero was floored to find that out, knowing how close the two were and knowing with absolute certainty they were meant for each other. "Wedding day jitters" was what he'd called it. Though, with Quat being a perfectionist, it probably had more to do with his fretting over the minute details and trying to make sure everything went perfectly. Which it had, of course, because Quatre was the one in charge of the wedding planning.

And while Heero wasn't the type to worry about those kinds of things, he could get married in a parking lot for all he cared, he still couldn't quell the dancing butterflies in his belly that seemed to get more hectic as the days went by. He really didn't have to do much of anything since Relena didn't trust him enough to pick out flowers, or cake, or decorations. She knew him well enough to know he'd go the simplest, most economic route which didn't usually account for taste. Tasteful, elegant, beautiful, that was Relena's forté. She also didn't want Duo's influence on her wedding plans. She'd seen the beer can wreaths that decorated his apartment at Christmastime. 

No, his job was simply to stay out of the way and nod his head agreeably whenever she asked him anything. He was not looking forward to the bachelor party either. Of course, Duo had commandeered that event which Quatre readily let him have, not fond of those things himself. It wasn't that Heero didn't appreciate the gesture, nor was he one to thumb his nose at tradition. He just wasn't a party goer. He wasn't big on the club scene, he didn't have a penchant for barhopping, or even drinking for that matter. The idea of having strippers made him even more uncomfortable, though Duo refused to listen to his protests.

"It's a bachelor party, man! You can't have a bachelor party without strippers."

He was also worried about how Relena felt about that, though she insisted she trusted him. It was fine as long as he kept his hands, and other parts of his anatomy, to himself. Then there was the full bar that was going to be a staple of the reception. Neither Heero, nor Relena were big drinkers, but Duo pressed that they were Sanq's "power couple" so of course they had to pull out all the stops which apparently included a fully stocked bar with nothing less than top shelf liquor. 

Maybe he was nervous because he didn't want an incident like the one that happened at Trowa and Quatre's wedding. What with Duo winding up drinking too much and getting into a fight with Zechs who dared to have a conversation with Wufei, Heero was not thrilled to have a repeat at his own reception.

He only hoped Duo and Wufei could mend their issues. They really were great together when they got along and Heero knew they adored each other. They were basically just complete opposites and because of that, they were going to clash at times. It was the law of physics, or something, Heero was sure. 

" _Heero!_ "

He jumped and spun around, looking towards the doorway to the kitchen where Relena stood, staring at him with shocked eyes. It was then that he noticed his shirt and pants were soaked and there was an odd sting on the inner part of his left forearm.

"Heero, what the hell?" She sprang into action, stepping carefully over the floor that was now covered in water. Heero looked down in surprise to see the sink had completely flooded over, the water still pouring out from the running faucet. 

"Shit!" He quickly turned the nozzle and stepped back, glancing down at his soaked clothes. How the hell had that happened?

"Oh my God, Heero! Your arm!" 

"What?"

She grabbed it, turning it over in her hands and gasping. "What did you _do_ to yourself?" 

His arm was completely cut up the entire length from his wrist to his elbow. He glanced down at his other hand to see a shard of a broken teacup saucer. He looked up into her eyes, his own wide with confusion. "I don't - don't. I don't remember doing that."

She pressed a large wad of paper towels against the bleeding wound. "What were you doing?"

He shook his head, his eyes catching the clock on the microwave. A full hour had passed and how in the hell was _that_ possible? He'd only had two plates, two cups with the saucers and a couple of forks and butter knives to wash. "I was just washing the dishes and thinking about the wedding. I thought..." He'd thought only twenty minutes had passed, at most. How the hell had an hour gone by without him even knowing and how did he not notice the sink overflowing, or him cutting up his arm? He gave Relena a helpless look and shook his head. "I don't know what happened."

She stared at him for a moment, her own expression frazzled. "Here, sit down. Hold this over the wound. Keep the pressure on it. I'll go get the first aid kit."

"I gotta...I gotta clean up this mess."

"I'll do it. You just sit there and don't move. I'm cancelling the ceremony."

"'Lena, no. No, you can't -"

"I can and I will. You're not well and you're staying here and I'm looking after you and that's final." Her tone left no room for argument and he pressed his lips together, feeling utterly guilty and wretched.

"I'm so sorry, honey."

She kissed his forehead and gazed into his eyes. "Are you okay now?" 

He gave a reluctant nod, not entirely sure. "I think so -"

"What's up with your eyes?" She was staring at him intently, a blond brow raised.

He raised his uninjured arm and rubbed at them unconsciously. "Yeah...about that. I don't know. I just noticed this morning."

She stepped back, giving him a strange look. "Well, first things first. I need to clean and bandage your arm. I'll be right back." She disappeared out of the kitchen and Heero slumped on the stool, beyond confused. He tried to remember if he'd noticed when he first started to get wet and couldn't. He'd never felt it. Never felt himself breaking the dish and cutting his arm up. He sucked in a shaky breath, feeling extremely unnerved. He peered under the paper towel that was now soaking through with blood, the blotches of red seeping into the top layers. He'd done quite a number on himself.

"What the hell just happened?"

He'd been the recipient of some strange things before, but this, as Duo would say, took the cake.


End file.
